Hermione's Wedding
by harlequindreaming
Summary: After attending Bill and Fleur's wedding, Hermione dreamed about her own. Now she has it. But who is her groom?
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own any character of Harry Potter. This is a purely fictional creation._

**xxxxx**

Her hair was full of white flowers- small daisies and mums, all delicately inserted into her tumbling brown curls, with the occasional yellow flower for added effect. Small pins with diamond and pearl heads to catch the light. As she turned her head back and forth, they sparkled like stars. She smiled. She had waited so long for this day.

She put her hand down for her lip balm and accidentally brushed the small pink carnation on the counter. She picked it up and smiled. It had been from Ron. He had handed it to her this morning, before she'd gone into this room to dress. He had looked into her eyes and smiled, and wished her a simple good luck. She had hesitated, wanting to throw herself into his arms, tell her how grateful she was and how much she loved him. Kiss him, maybe, out of so much happiness. Seeing the familiar blush on his face, as red as his hair, had always made her laugh, and today was no exception. But she had just smiled and thanked him, tucking the flower into her ear and saying she'd see him in the garden.

The garden. Oh, it was so beautiful, just like the rented cottage that shielded it from passersby. She had caught a glimpse of it coming into the cottage –masses of white carnations and yellow roses, the gazebo strung with fairy lights. Everything much too expensive, no doubt, but her fiancée had spared no expense for this day. She knew what would happen afterward –ever since Bill and Fleur's wedding, she'd been dreaming of this day. Dancing, and cake, and laughter, and many other wonderful things. And her dress! She looked down again. Layers of white organza, lace and satin, with more pearls. A simple cut, a beautiful layered skirt. And a small white veil. She actually felt beautiful, no longer the frizzy-haired, buck-toothed Muggle-born nerd who was always a little too talkative and bossy. She picked up the pearls from their cotton encasement and set them into her ears. She smiled at her reflection. A little pale, but otherwise, all right. She looked like a happy bride.

There was a knock on her door. "Hermione?"

She stood up and, laughing, opened the door. Viktor Krum stood there, a little sheepish, but otherwise very handsome in his suit. It was only recently that he had learned how to properly pronounce her name and even now, he struggled a little. She looked at him with happy eyes. "Yes, Viktor?"

"I just -vanted to…vish you good luck," Krum faltered, looking at her face, her dress, her hair. "You look… very nice."

"Thank you, Viktor." She smiled, leaned forward, and kissed him on the cheek. "I should finish getting ready, but I'll see you at the altar, all right?" Krum nodded and left. Hermione shut the door and returned to her seat. Her shoes were the final touch. Heeled, of course –she'd be too small otherwise. Colored palest gray. She pulled on her soft white stockings, then (blushing slightly as she did) the white lace garter for after the wedding. Then her shoes. She picked up her bouquet of white and yellow carnations, tucking Ron's pink one inside. Then she stood up and checked her reflection one last time, twirling in front of the mirror.

She had been longing for this.

Another knock on her door. This time, Harry's voice drifted in. "Are you ready, 'Mione?"

One last look. Then she opened the door. Harry inhaled sharply. "Wow, Hermione. You look…" He trailed off, at a loss for words.

"Honestly Harry, is this going to be like the Yule Ball again?" She cocked an eyebrow at him.

Harry laughed. "No, no. But you do look amazing." He held out his arm. "Ready?"

Hermione took a deep breath. She hooked her arm around Harry's. "Yes."


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione gasped as Harry led her out the back door of the cottage and into the garden. It was beyond beautiful. The flowers gave off a heady scent, but it wasn't dizzying, and though they were plentiful they were artfully arranged so as not to look tacky or overwhelming. The fairy lights had been turned on in the dying light, so the garden was all aglow. The guests were all turned toward her and Harry, and as she scanned them she saw many a beloved face –Ginny, waiting for Harry to return to the seat next to her; Neville and Luna waving excitedly, with baby Dandelion between them; Mr. and Mrs. Weasely smiling and crying; Professor McGonagall looking like she was trying not to cry; Hagrid taking up ten seats at the back. She felt her eyes tear up a little at the sight of the empty chairs set up in honor of all those she wished could be here –Fred, Professor Dumbledore, Tonks and Lupin, Sirius. Her parents. And then, as Harry led her along and the wedding march began to play, she looked up the aisle at the altar.

There was Ron, manfully being her "man of honor," even though he was trying very hard not to catch the eye of anyone in the audience (particularly George, whom she knew hadn't let Ron live this down yet). She loved Ginny a lot, but she and Ron had been through so much together and since he couldn't be the best man (she smiled at the memory of that long argument), she had given him this position. She knew Lavender would be somewhere at the back, seething a little at the thought of Ron's still doing whatever Hermione asked him to, but it didn't bother her. This was her day.

Across from Ron, she could see Viktor. He was shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, rubbing his hands together. Probably nervous for the toast. He looked up and his mouth dropped open, and she felt another rush as it hit her again how beautiful she felt. As beautiful as that night in her fourth year at Hogwarts, where she had entered the Great Hall on his arm and everyone had marveled at them (or hated her). He was attracting as much attention now as he did then, despite his retirement. She smiled brilliantly, and he smiled back at her, though his smile seemed a little sad. It had been so long since the Yule Ball…

They had reached the end of the aisle now, and Harry leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. Her parents had died natural deaths before she could track them down after the war, so she had asked Harry to give her away. He looked down at her and smiled. Whispered, "Be happy." Kissed her on the forehead and returned to his seat. She handed her bouquet to Ron, who leaned forward to kiss her, too. "Good luck," he said. Then she turned to Krum, who was smiling at her, but whose eyes were filled with wistfulness and regret. He simply nodded and stepped back. He knew his place as the best man. And finally, finally… she let her eyes drift to her boyfriend, her love, her fiancée… and now her groom.

Her smile grew. She felt like she was going to explode with happiness. After all these years, he was finally hers. She turned to the official and her eyes filled with tears as he said—

"Do you, Draco Malfoy, take Hermione Granger to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, 'till death do you part?"

Draco reached over and gripped her chin, turning her face toward him. With eyes burning with incredible passion and love, he said, loud enough for the whole garden to hear,

"I do."

**xxxxx**

_Author's Note: And that's my take on Hermione and Draco's wedding! I'm thinking of adding vows (I definitely want to write Draco's, it'll be so intense, but I'm worried it might ruin things, especially the impact of the ending. Review and tell me what you want! Please and thank you. :D_


End file.
